The Softer Dove
by LittleEnglishLass
Summary: "Here kiddo, maybe that bat will come in useful if you find yourself surrounded by zombies!" He laughed. Oh, how ironic a statement would be in a few years. Chenoa is a survivor of Atlanta. She intends to get out of the city and find her parents, but apparently fate has other plans in store. Destiny takes the shape of a man named Lee Everett and a little girl called Clementine.
1. Chapter 1: Bloodstained Sunshine

**Why hello there! *smiles a HUGE smile and waves* Thanks for taking an interest in my silly scribblings! (should that be typings?) Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!**

**All my other stories have been TF, and I've had this one in my **_**'Random Junk I Don't Have a Name For' **_**file on my computer for a while. I was going to make this a Walking Dead/Transformers crossover, but I gave up and changed it back. I am planning on a crossover, so stay tuned if you're interested in it!**

**I love, LOVE Telltale Games adaptations of The Walking Dead. I love them more than any other game. (Apart from TF games. Transformers is my drug. *wink*) **

**To me, there are far too few emotional horror games out there, and **_**way **_**too many BOO! I SCARED YOU! ones. I love the characters and the story. This is kind of a novelisation but with an added OC, maybe I'll add a few more as the story develops. Some people hate them, but I think OC stories are interesting, because it makes you think about all the different ways the story could have gone, and how the other characters would have dealt with the situations you, the writer, can put them in. **

**My OC was inspired by the 'mysterious figure' (who incidentally, looks a hell of a lot like Clementine) that Lee sees after he shoots that police officer zombie. I thought **_**Hmm. What if...**_** and this is the result! It plays out a little differently, but the main story is still the same for the most part.**

**Basic Info on OC**

**Name; **Chenoa May Hudson

**Age; **23

**Nationality; **Native American/English

**Enjoy, my little zombie friends. Aw you're so cute! Yes you are!**

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**The Softer Dove**

**Chapter One; Bloodstained Sunshine**

"Come on you dumbass sons of..."

Chenoa's whisper trailed off as she ran. Thankfully, the walking corpses seemed more interested in the car alarm that was ringing out with its ear-splitting whine than her retreating figure.

She grasped her trusty cricket bat for comfort, silently thanking her good ol' dad for getting her it for her sixteenth birthday after she'd coveted it as it sat in the sports shop window, gleaming and tempting her. She remembered how he'd actually joked she could use it in case she ever got caught in a zombie apocalypse. She remembered her mother laughing at how daft an idea that was.

The irony was delicious.

She had only needed to use it in that way a few times, preferring to skirt around the groups of dead people that now freely roamed the place. It was easy enough to do really, especially if you knew the streets. They were the walking dead, not generally genius hunters by nature. You could practically outrun them by _walking _away from them. Turn a few corners, and they would lose interest altogether.

Chenoa stopped running when she reached a high brick wall. Scrambling up it, she managed to sit atop it, smacking her knee against it in the process. She paused for a few moments, rubbing her throbbing knee, seeing a few of the dead wandering aimlessly in a garden a few houses up the road. As she took in her surroundings, she let her thoughts wander.

The day shit hit the fan, everything had seemed...normal. Chenoa had got up for work as usual, and drove into the city to the travel agents she worked at. She'd passed a fair few accidents on the way, but hadn't thought it was suspicious. It was as if her own mind had been setting her up the whole time.

She hadn't even checked the news, like she normally did on a morning. She'd overslept, so she hadn't had the time. She hadn't realised there was something wrong until she got up the next morning and saw some of the dead devouring a guy, and her neighbours dragging their rotting arses across her driveway.

_What if I had realised? _Chenoa thought as she watched the dead roaming about. _What would I have done then? Stayed at home? Gone to work? Went straight to help my...my parents?_

Her parents. Were they okay? She'd gone round to their house immediately, but it had been empty. That could be one or two things. Either they found a way out of the city, or they...they had become..._them_.

Chenoa suddenly wanted to beat the living hell out of the dead she could see in the garden. She felt a terrible barrage of hate and fury at everything dead or dying. But she didn't move a muscle, instead she clenched her fists around the handle of the bat. Her mother had taught her better than that.

The dead might be dead, but they were once people. People who lived, who laughed and cried. People who died. There was no point pinning the blame on whoever she saw fit.

The street was empty when she looked back. The loud slam of a door had attracted the attention of the dead to a house a few streets away. Knowing she only had a few minutes, Chenoa stood and slowly made her way down the wall, keeping a sharp lookout for any stragglers that might be wandering about. She mentally planned ahead, thinking she would go home and rest up for tonight, then tomorrow, she would take her car and go...well...anywhere really.

_Staying in the city isn't a good idea. _Chenoa thought, picking up her pace as she heard the telltale sounds of the returning dead. _More people equals more zombies. I need to get out into the countryside, where there are less people. Hole up in one of those tiny towns that have, like ten people at max living there. Maybe the military has a survivors camp or something. If my parents are going to be anywhere, that's surely the best place to look._

Chenoa took a breather. The air was silent. No dead people to be seen. That was a good sign, right? She sighed and began walking through the small patch of woodland that was between her and home. Normally she didn't take that route, the woods weren't the best of places to travel in at the best of times, let alone with the dead roaming about. But the streets she usually took were occupied by a small...herd? Hoard? Group? Pride even? Whatever the proper name was, she wasn't about to put herself at risk for a quicker journey home.

After a few minutes of walking, she heard distant sounds of yelling. Stopping, she tilted her head around, trying to pinpoint the location. If there was someone alive in these woods, then she sure as hell wasn't going to just leave them. Turning left, she ran through the thicket of trees, hearing the voice get closer and closer with every step.

"SHIT!" a male voice panicked. "What the hell are you?!"

Chenoa sped up, until she was flat out sprinting. She heard a shot ring out, deafening and close by. Panting, she jogged up the small hill and blinked at the sight that confronted her.

A good looking, dark-skinned man was backed up to a wrecked police car, with what had clearly been a zombie only a few seconds before, now minus the head, it's too dark blood slicking over the short grass. A discarded shotgun lay on the ground a few paces away. The man caught sight of her and waved frantically.

"HELP! Go get someone!" he yelled. "There-there's been a shooting!"

Chenoa grinned a little. The man was obviously panicking. Maybe he thought he would get in trouble for killing a police officer or something equally as daft. She ran up to him, seeing his terrified face smooth over at the sight of someone who _wasn't _going to eat him.

Lee could feel his heart beating so fast under his blue shirt, he thought it would spring out of his mouth and land on the ground with a _splat_. What the hell was going on?! A dead guy had just tried to...to eat him?

He looked up as the figure approached. It was a woman. Young looking, quite pretty with her large brown eyes framed with messy black hair and coppery skin. She definitely had some Native American in her.

"H-hello?" he said, his deep voice now full of uncertainty. "Who are you?"

She knelt down. "I'm Chenoa. You?"

"The name's Lee."

"Nice to meet you Lee. Shame about the circumstances though."

Lee nodded, wincing as he moved his leg. The cut was deep, but it didn't look infected, thank god. The woman-no, Chenoa glanced at his wound, dark brown eyes filling with concern as he tried to move his leg further up.

"Ah, goddamn it!" Lee could hear his voice cracking a little, he guessed he'd been out a while. He was thirsty as hell, and his stomach ached with hunger.

"That looks nasty." Chenoa said, nodding to the cut on his leg. "How'd you get it?"

Lee nodded at the car wreck. "That's how. We hit a...whatever it was and...and then that's the last I remember until I woke up and a _dead guy_ tried to kill me!"

Chenoa gave a humourless smile. "Yeah. Trust me, I know how you feel. I woke up one morning to see a group of the bastards eating a screaming guy right outside my window. Talk about waking up the wrong side of the bed huh?"

Their conversation was cut off by loud rustling. Lee saw Chenoa freeze, her face showing dread mingled with horror. He felt a sense of foreboding fill him. Surely, there wasn't..._more _of those things? He watched, horrified, as two corpses walked out of the brush. Lee saw Chenoa offer her hand, he took it gladly and she pulled him up.

"RUN!" she said, taking off, dragging him along too.

Chenoa could feel Lee's clammy hand against hers. He couldn't go very fast because of that damned cut on his leg. She cursed under her breath when she saw more of the dead stumbling towards them in the gloom under the trees. She and Lee skirted around one of said trees when they saw a corpse sitting there, jawless and one hand chewed off, the yellowing bones sticking ghoulishly out off the rotting, green skin. It reached out to them with a sickening, gargling growl. The duo didn't exactly stop to say hello. Their hearts pounded as they ran, minds imagining gruesome fates at the hands of the dead. Like an answered prayer, they saw a fence, ivy crawling lazily up it, so close they might just make it.

Lee stumbled but managed to somehow summon the strength to get up and carry on. His limp was getting worse with every step, and his breath came in pained gasps. Chenoa jumped on to the fence, her after school gymnastics finally starting to pay off, and helped Lee over, just as the dead began to pound their rotting hands against the orangey wood that separated them from their prey. Chenoa and Lee slowly retreated on their backsides until they hit the wall of a raided patio. For a few tense seconds the only sound was the inhuman snarls of the dead, and the short, fear-filled breaths of the living.

A volley of distant shots rang out, and the dead slowly began to lose interest and follow the sound of the gun, their stumbling footsteps growing quieter and quieter.

"That was close." Lee said.

"Way too close." Chenoa agreed.

The duo sagged in relief as the last of the snarls faded into the distance. They stood up, and walked into the middle of the garden, not wanting to get caught off guard by any dead that might be wandering near them.

The grass was short and well kept, a red play wagon sat dejectedly in the middle, the colour matching the tiles around a curved pool covered by black sheeting. A treehouse towered above them, the gnarled roots of the thick tree curling into the grass, where a child's tea set was set up next to a faded red garden chair. Chenoa saw a small pillar of smoke rising in the distance, and she wondered what it was for a few moments, before pointing to the treehouse.

"We could hide out in there until tomorrow." Chenoa suggested. "It's going to get dark soon, and there are always more of the dead hanging around on a night."

She walked up to it, wanting a closer look. It seemed sturdy enough. A sun peeping out from behind a fluffy white cloud was painted on the door. Chenoa smiled, but her face fell when she realised the ladder was broken.

"No ladder." She said.

"I'm not getting up there anyways." Lee said, joining her by the tree. "This leg being the way it is."

"No, I guess not." Chenoa nodded. "D'you think anyone's up there?"

"Only one way to find out." Lee replied, before calling up to the treehouse. "Anybody up there? We need some help!"

Silence greeted his words. Lee looked to Chenoa, who shrugged.

"I guess not." He said, before limping towards the house.

Chenoa followed him, looking at the oddly placed pots and pans that were sat beside the door. She blinked, but then thought that maybe the little girl who lived there played with them.

Lee knocked on the glass doors. "Hello? Anybody home? We need a little help."

Again, silence greeted them. Chenoa shrugged this time, and helped Lee open the door, as it was a little stiff to open.

"We're coming in okay? Don't shoot." Lee called through the house. "We're not intruders...or like_ them._"

The duo walked in slowly, not wanting to startle anyone who might be in the house. Chenoa shut the door behind her. She didn't think it was a good idea to leave it open. What if the house was empty, but some of the dead got in when she and Lee were busy. She shuddered. Now was _not _the time for an overactive imagination.

The scene in front of them didn't fill them with much hope. A few chairs were toppled over, the TV displayed a blank blue screen that created a eerie glow in the gloom of the house. Worse still, Chenoa nudged Lee and pointed, there was a large patch of blood on the floor leading into the kitchen, and some smears on the wall.

Lee's shoulders slumped.

"These people might need more help than we do." He said, a heaviness on his voice.

"Yeah..."

Chenoa watched some of the dust particles fly about in the blood red glow of the sun, that was just beginning to set behind the distant, ghostly shadows of the woodland branches.

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**R&R please!**

**Next chapter, we meet Clementine and arrive at Hershel's farm.**

**TOODLES!**


	2. Chapter 2: Merciful

**Hi! I'm back! **

**This is long one, hopefully it'll make up for my lack of updates. ~_~'**

**Reason for lateness? Hmm...where to start? Illness, Christmas, New Year, college work, computer viruses, and life in general being a pest...gah!**

**Hopefully things will get easier once I get over this bug I've got. Just looking at the computer sometimes makes my eyes burn. *sad face* BUT MY LAPTOP IS MY BABY! I HAVE TO GIVE IT MY UNDEVIDED ATTENTION! **

**A little annoyed looking at the hits, follows and favourites the first chapter got...but only one kind soul left a review for me? I better get some more this time guys, else I'll unleash my horrible minions of the undead wearing bunny costumes! *epic evil laugh* Actually, I'd better not laugh. I'm so ill at the mo' the resulting coughing fit might be the death of me! :D *has coughing fit anyway* DAMN YOU GERMS!**

**I'm following the storyline according to Hannah Plays for the most part, though I will change some parts so it makes sense. I don't really think it matters which player you follow, the story is still basically the same with a few exceptions. Also, this story will have the CarLee pairing, just because I like them together. :P I love that pairing name, it's like the game creators MADE it that way.**

**Note; **Chenoa is pronounced CHEE-NO-UH, and I'm fairly certain it's meaning is 'white dove', hence the title of the story. :) I think it's also the name of a town or a city, though I haven't really done a lot of research on it. It's just a name my friend really likes and suggested I write a story with a character called Chenoa in.

'**Put your two-penneth in'; **Old English saying, 'peneth' is an old English way of saying 'pence'. It means, 'put in a thought'. It's also a variant of 'penny for your thoughts?'. Where did I get this from? Well, where I live, people still use some of the Old English words (thee, thou, morrow, ect) and phrases, so I usually write them by accident. Sometimes I end up keeping them, cause they sound great!

**Hope you all enjoy!**

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**The Softer Dove**

**Chapter Two; Merciful **

Lee stood in the doorway, watching the rust coloured glow of the setting sun cast long shadows into the already gloomy confines of the house. A worried frown crossed his face as he contemplated his position. If he had been a lesser minded individual, the events of the day might have sent him over the edge. Maybe they already had.

_A dead guy. A dead guy trying to eat me. Really? _He thought as he ventured carefully into the house. _I must be mad to come up with something like this. Yeah that's it. I got into the prison, somehow had a mental breakdown and now I'm on medication that's giving me all kinds of hallucinations._

"What's this?"

Chenoa crossed his sight as she examined a colouring book on the kitchen counter, her white blouse turned a dark grey by the shadows. Her face was grim as she picked up one of the crayons, eyes travelling over the toppled stool and then the sickening splash of blood that still glistened slightly in the dull light. Lee knew what she was thinking, but dared not to do so himself. The thought of a child dying in such a way was just too horrific.

Spying a bowl of fruit, Lee staggered over to it, wincing as his leg protested with an angry wave of pain. He reached over and tried to pick one of the grapes, pulling his hand back with a sigh.

"It's fake. Damn." He said.

Chenoa looked up at the sound of his voice, and he nodded to the bowl of fruit. She pulled a face.

"Never liked bananas anyway." She joked lightly. "I prefer chocolate."

"I'm not too fond of them either to be honest, though right now I could eat a bunch of 'em without complaint." Lee said, shaking his head with a smile. "Maybe there's something in the cupboards. Place don't look like it's been looted. There's still some stuff lying around. Thieves would've taken it all."

Chenoa's smile faded, eyes wandering back to the blood. Lee swallowed. He wasn't keen about going near it either. His stomach growled softly, and he sighed, deciding to just bite the bullet and get it over with.

"Lee, tell you what, you poke around in here and I'll check around outside to make sure none of the dead are creeping up on us." Chenoa offered. Seeing Lee's raised eyebrow, she scowled. "What's that look for?"

"How do I know you aint just gonna run off?" Lee said, folding his arms across his chest. "World these days, I guess you don't want to be dealing with a cripple."

Chenoa rolled her eyes. "If I didn't want you around, why would I have helped you over that fence? And besides, if I had decided to leave you, I'd have to face the fact that I'd be all alone again. You're the first living person I've seen for a while now. Dead don't exactly make great conversationalists you know."

Lee laughed. "Point taken."

"Holler if you need me, I'll only be outside."

"Will do."

Lee watched her walk out the door, shutting it carefully behind her as she shouldered her bat. She nodded to him with a small smile, which he returned. She disappeared from view. He supposed it made sense to have someone making sure another group of the dead didn't catch them off guard. They barely escaped last time, and he was sure that attempting to cheat death twice in one day would be pushing their luck a little.

He wandered slowly over to the pool of blood staining the kitchen floor.

"Jesus..." He said quietly.

At closer glance, his fears over the dead child seemed confirmed. His stomach knotted painfully when he saw the small handprints imprinted upon the tiles, child sized footprints made their way over to one of the kitchen counters.

_Maybe the kid did walk away from this. _He thought. _But then again, with the world the way it is now, that aint saying much._

He made to step over the blood and walk into the kitchen, momentarily forgetting about his injured leg. His leg slid on the blood, which wasn't as dry as he'd originally thought, and he fell on his side.

"Urgh..."

He almost shuddered as he pushed himself up, feeling the sticky red liquid seep onto his hand and into his clothing. Forcing down his shudders, he concentrated on putting his good leg first as he walked across the kitchen. He glanced over at the fridge, willing it to have something edible inside, when a tinny beeping noise rang across the house.

He froze. It sounded like a phone. Was someone calling the house? He waited for another ring, but none came. Sighing, he figured it might have been a toy or something before catching sight of the note stuck on the fridge door. Squinting a little in the bad lighting, he read it aloud.

"Hmm...The Marsh House. That's a Savannah area-code. But that's the type of note you'd leave a babysitter..." He said, voicing his thoughts.

He supposed the kid might not have been the only person to die in the house. Maybe there was another body in a different room. He shuddered. No, he was not keen on the idea of leaving the room he was in.

Getting back to his task, he opened a drawer, expecting maybe scissors or cutlery, hoping for a first aid kit, but got a surprise when he saw an old walkie-talkie sitting there. He picked it up, scrutinizing it for a few moments. It looked in good shape, maybe if he found the other one, he could give it to Chenoa. It was a good way of keeping in contact with each other if they got separated. He pocketed it.

Something beeped again. Lee frowned, but ignored it for the moment. Maybe it was a mobile on low battery. They often made odd beeping noises when they needed charging. With a shrug, he opened the rest of the drawers, but found only a few boxes of matches, some cutlery and a long box of uncooked pasta. He was about to give up and go investigate the beeping, when he spied a cup of water on the counter hear the sink. He grabbed it and gulped it down eagerly. It tasted stale, but it was hydration and that was all that mattered. He placed the cup back on the counter, jumping slightly as a mechanical voice rang out.

"There are three new messages."

Lee could have kicked himself as he rushed over to the table, where something was flashing red. Of course it was an answering machine! His old one had been exactly the same.

"Maybe there's something useful on there." He said, reaching over and pressing the play button. He waited for the messages to play.

"Three new messages. Message one, left at five-forty-three pm." Lee could have killed the stupid thing. He just wanted the messages, not the times they were left at. He froze as a woman's voice sounded out, made a little tinny by the speakers.

"_Hey, Sandra, this is Diana. We're still in Savannah. Ed had little incident with some crazy guy near the hotel, so we had to get him back to the ER and have it checked out. Anyway, he's not feeling well enough to drive back tonight so we're staying an extra day. Thanks so much for looking after Clementine, and I promise we'll be back in time before your spring break!"_

Lee waited.

"Message two. Left at eleven-nineteen pm."

"_Oh my god, finally! I don't know if you tried to reach us, a-all the calls are getting dropped. They're not letting us leave and aren't telling us anything about Atlanta. Please, please just leave the city and take Clementine with you back to Marietta. I-I've got to get back to the hospital please let me know that you're safe." _

The woman's voice filled the room. There was a definite panic to her tone, and she stumbled over a few words in her haste to speak. Lee waited for the last message to play.

"Message three. Left at six-fifty-one am."

Lee tensed, somehow knowing what was coming next.

"_Clementine? Baby, if you can hear this, call the police. That's 9-1-1. We love you...we love you...we love y-"_

This time, the woman had been crying. As she spoke, Lee could clearly hear what sounded like gunfire and sirens echoing in the distance, as though the woman was hidden away in some sort of alley, before the call suddenly ended with a beep.

Lee picked up the picture on the table. A smiling family of three, the man in a white shirt with his arm around the shoulder of a woman in a green t-shirt, a young girl perched in front of them. Lee put the picture down, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat and fighting back the tears that stung his eyes.

As he made to walk away, another voice rang out.

"_Daddy?"_ A child.

"Huh?" Lee knew it wasn't the answering machine, and the child wasn't directly speaking to him, the voice was distorted a little.

He pulled the walkie-talkie out of his pocket as he walked over to the door and looked out, seeing Chenoa inspecting the garage door. He pressed the button on the side of the walkie-talkie.

"Hello...?"

"_You need to be quiet."_ The child said.

Lee walked away from the door. "Are you okay?" He asked the child.

"_I'm okay."_ Came the weary reply. _"They tried to get me. But I'm hiding until my parents come home."_

Lee took another look outside, wondering if he should call for Chenoa, who was still busy with the garage. No, he decided, better to find out where this kid was before jumping to conclusions. It might be a kid a few streets away with a walkie-talkie. He doubted it, but it was possible.

"What's your name?" he asked, wanting to end his confusion.

"_I'm Clementine. This is my house."_

Lee said nothing for a few moments. He was considering what to say next. He figured he would get the introductions out of the way first.

"Hi Clementine, I'm Lee." He said, glancing around for anywhere Clementine might be hiding. "Where are your parents?"

It seemed a stupid question, but he didn't want to have to tell the little girl about the messages. He couldn't put her through that. While the girl talked, he edged around the blood pool as he made his way into the kitchen.

"_They took a trip and left me with Sandra. They're in Savannah I think, where the boats are." _

"Are you safe?" Was Lee's next question. He hated the thought of any child being in danger at the best of times, but the thought of a child all alone in a world were bodies walked in a merciless hunger made Lee terrified.

"_I'm outside in my treehouse, they can't get in."_

"That's smart." Lee praised, looking out the kitchen window at the wooden structure sat in the tree.

"_See? Can you see me?" _A door opened on the treehouse, and Lee could see a little figure clutching a walkie-talkie peeping out. _"I can see you through the window."_

Lee smiled a little, and waved. The girl froze for a moment, before she looked at something over Lee's shoulder and screamed, vanishing back into her sanctuary. Lee saw movement out the corner of his eye and turned, just in time for one of the dead raising its rotten arms to grab him with a horrible raspy snarl, the smell of decaying flesh rolling out from its mottled skin in sickening waves.

He seized the creature's shoulder and attempted to push it away from him. But he hadn't expected it to be so strong, and he had a hard job avoiding its clawing hands as he pushed it back into the washing machine. He tried to run while his opponent was down, but slipped on the blood, smacking his head on the counter in the process.

Doing his best to ignore the pain and blurred vision, he kicked at the head of the creature, his attempts at fleeing foiled again when it reached out and tripped him up. He fell to the floor, kicking out and backing away to the glass door, where he could see Clementine opening the door, clutching a large hammer.

"Here!" she cried, almost in tears and shaking with terror as she stared, wide-eyed at the scene in front of her.

The creature climbed atop him, he grabbed its shoulders and tried to keep its gnashing mouth away from him. He lashed out, managing to kick it a good distance before grabbing the hammer from the terrified little girl and forcing the creature to the floor. He placed his knee on its chest and beat it repeatedly with the hammer.

Its snarls became more like wet gargles, the discoloured blood splattering across the rug beneath it. When it became silent, Lee hit it again for good measure, its putrid skin falling away to reveal the muscle and bone beneath, its jaw hung on by barely a few inches of dead flesh and sinew, its white, fly infested eyes forced apart as the hammer got stuck. Lee pried it out with a disgusted grimace and stood up slowly, exhausted.

"Man..." He said, looking up to the little girl who had saved his life. "Hi there."

She was small, with curly dark brown hair concealed under a blue and white cap, hazel eyes filled with the innocent terror that only a child's could contain. Her petite little nose was wrinkled a little at the smell of the corpse inches from her, full cheeks flushed as her freight subsided. Her dress was an off-white with grubby grey leggings and smart brown shoes.

Footsteps made Clementine turn and Lee tensed, praying it wasn't another one of the dead. He relaxed when Chenoa appeared in the doorway, eyes wide and expression worried.

"What happened?" she asked, blinking at the now not walking dead and Clementine.

"Got jumped from behind." Lee said. "Little Clementine here came to my rescue. This is her house. Clementine, this is Chenoa, someone else who saved my bacon earlier today. Where were you anyway?" he asked Chenoa, curious.

"Hmm? Oh, I was in the garage. I thought there might have been a car or something, but there was only a few spare tyres and boxes of stuff. Since there wasn't anything worthwhile, I came out and saw the little one stood at the door. I ran over and well...saw that lying on the floor with its head smashed in. Good job by the way. It only works if you hit them in the head."

Chenoa gently moved Clementine out of the way of the blood that was pouring out of the body. God only knows what kind of diseases were in that stuff.

"Did you kill it?" Clementine asked Lee, eyes fixed on the gruesome sight in front of her.

"I don't know. I...think so." Lee replied with a shrug.

The little girl looked scared. "Sometimes they come back."

Chenoa reassured her. "Not this one sweetie. They don't get back up if you get them in the head. I promise."

Clementine twisted the hem of her dress in agitation, before she nodded and bit her lip, looking somewhat relieved. But still cautious.

"They're really hard to kill." She observed quietly.

Lee swallowed. "Have you killed one?"

"No. But they get shot a lot."

Lee brought himself down to Clementine's level. She seemed to know a lot. A sudden, disturbing thought popped into his head.

"You've been all by yourself through this?" he asked.

"Yeah. I want my parents to come home now." Clementine said, bouncing on the heel of her feet, arms swaying a little.

Lee lowered his eyes. He didn't know how he was supposed to tell a little girl that her parents were most likely dead, or the _walking _dead. Eventually he settled with something gentle.

"I think that might...be a little while, y'know?" He said, giving a significant look to Chenoa who's eyes widened in sympathy.

"Oh." Clementine said simply, a hollow sadness in her eyes.

Chenoa knelt down and kindly took Clementine's hand, rubbing her thumb over it comfortingly. Clementine smiled a little, and raised her eyes to Lee's when he moved closer to her.

"Look, we don't know what happened." Lee said. "But we'll look after you until your parents get back, okay?"

"Really?" Clementine asked, looking between the two adults.

"Of course." Chenoa said, patting her on the back. "No way in hell will we leave a little girl all alone with nobody to keep her safe, especially with monsters roaming around."

Clementine was silent for a few moments, before she nodded and stood a little straighter.

"What should we do now?" she asked.

"We should look for help, before it gets dark." Lee said.

Chenoa nodded. "Normally I would have said that we all go back to my house, but that's quite far away from here, and it'll be dark before we get there. Walking around in the dark isn't a good idea. Maybe there's somewhere safe we can hole up until tomorrow."

"Yeah. It's not safe at night. There's always lots more of those monsters around, I don't know why." Clementine agreed. "But why don't we stay in my treehouse tonight? The monsters can't get us up there."

"Can't do that honey. Lee's leg is bad, so he won't be able to climb up. And we can't stay in your house itself, it's just not safe in here. Too easy for the monsters to get in and get us." Chenoa said gently.

"Okay." Clementine said. "So we see if we can find people to help us, or somewhere safe we can stay. Got it."

Lee nodded, before standing up. Chenoa followed suit.

"Let's go, stay close to us." Lee said, taking Clementine's hand.

Together, all three of them walked out of the house. Clementine took one last look inside her house, before she closed the door, not wanting anymore dead people to get into her house, and followed the adults. They seemed really nice, especially Lee. She liked him already. She liked Chenoa too, and she really liked her boots and jeans. Clementine rushed ahead, wanting to show them the way out of her garden.

Lee limped a little more, wincing with every step. It hadn't been so bad before, but the battle with the walker, as he'd decided to call them for the sake of convenience , had made it much worse. He made sure to keep Clementine in his sight. She was only little, easy for a walker to grab and take a bite out of if they weren't careful.

When they reached the end of the garage, they caught sight of two men trying to push a car out of the road just outside the gate. They must have only just turned up, since Chenoa shook her head and shrugged confusedly at the questioning look Lee gave her. He shrugged back. They needed some help. Maybe that's just what these strangers could offer.

Lee walked up to the iron gate, clearly able to hear the conversation between the two men in the unnatural quiet, the only other sounds being the soft rush of the wind and the gentle music of chimes in response. It was a serene facade, betrayed by the amount of death and destruction that had created such a calm silence.

"Ah man!" The skinner of the men complained loudly as he abandoned his task, dark brown hair almost becoming black in the dimming light.

"I aint never gettin' home to mamma at this rate." The plumper, blonde man sighed.

"This sucks." The dark-haired man said.

"Aw, it's hot dish night." The blonde man said mournfully, half to himself as the two men redoubled their efforts to shift the wrecked green car.

Lee thought as he observed them. They didn't give him the creeps, and by their conversation they seemed nice enough. Still, he wasn't about to just charge up to complete strangers without backup. He walked back to where Clementine and Chenoa had waited.

"Seem okay." He said.

Chenoa nodded and they both made to walk to the gate, but stopped when they realised Clementine hadn't moved from her spot against the garage wall. Chenoa kept an eye on the men attempting to move the car, while Lee frowned a little, though not as though he was annoyed, and knelt down to the little girl's level.

"What's the matter?" He asked.

"Should I stay?" Clementine asked hesitantly, the confidence she had displayed before was gone, replaced by a sad helplessness.

"What?" Lee asked, unsure of how to respond. He'd never been a father, and he'd never had to face the responsibility of taking care of a child, but he would do his best to take care of her.

"I don't want to sleep in the treehouse tonight, but I don't know if I should leave. What if my parents come home?" Clementine asked.

Lee was faced with a dilemma. Should he tell her the truth, or try and handle the situation as delicately as possible? Eventually, he resolved for something he hoped would console her for the time being.

"I won't leave you alone." He said softly. "And neither will Chenoa."

Clementine bounced on the balls of her feet again, a small, relieved smile sliding onto her sweet little face. "Let's go somewhere safe that's _close_, okay?" she said, almost happily.

"That's a good idea." Lee said, standing up and nodding to Chenoa.

The two adults pushed the gate open, keeping Clementine protected behind them in case things went South. The gate creaked open loudly, and the two strangers turned in alarm.

"HOLY SHIT!" The blonde man said, holding up his hands as though in surrender. "DON'T EAT US!"

Lee limped towards them, arms raised in a placating manner.

"We're not gonna hurt you." He said as evenly as possible.

"Do we _look _like the dead walking to you?" Chenoa asked, irritation evident on her tone. "And if we were, somehow I don't think politely asking them not to eat you would help your situation in the slightest."

"Phew." The dark-haired man said, entire body sagging in relief. "I thought for a second you two and the little one were _all _going to give us the chomp."

Lee had so many questions. A small battle waged in his head as each suggestion fought for dominance, before one came out on top.

"Do you know what the hell this is?" Lee asked, putting a particular stress on the word 'hell'.

"No idea!" The dark-haired man said, before his gaze turned to a downed walker a little further up the road. "So you've seen them then?"

"You could say that."

The man smiled. "I'm Shawn. Shawn Greene."

Lee nodded his thanks. "Lee. This little lass is Clementine."

"And I'm Chenoa." Said woman put in, her flyaway hair being tugged gently by the breeze.

The blonde-haired man kneeled down to speak to Clementine, who was dawdling shyly behind Lee.

"I'm Chet." He said, raising a hand in greeting. Clementine smiled a little.

Shawn broke the moment. "We shouldn't be out in the open like this." He said, turning back to Lee and Chenoa. "How about you help us clear the way, and we'll take you both and your daughter out of here, and down to my family's farm. It should be safer there."

Lee and Chenoa hastened to correct him. "We're not together." They said at the same time.

Shawn nodded to Lee. "So you're her dad then."

Lee shook his head. "Naw. I'm just some guy."

When Shawn looked confused, Lee elaborated. "Chenoa and I had a chance meeting in the woods, and then we ran from some of the dead when they chased us. Stumbled across Clementine. Her parents were out of town, and we weren't just gonna leave a little girl all alone in this."

Shawn blinked. "Oh, sorry. I meant no offence. You were all together, so I just assumed you were a family."

"No worries." Chenoa said with a smile. "Anyone would make that assumption."

Shawn nodded to her, returning the smile. Lee cast his eyes over the car Shawn and Chet had been trying to move. Looked easy enough to shift if they all pushed at the same time. His thoughts were interrupted by Shawn's voice.

"Let's get going. Staying put for too long is a mistake." He said.

Lee and Chenoa nodded. They turned to Clementine. This was as much her decision as it was theirs.

"What do you want to do?" Lee asked her.

She shook her head nervously. "I..." She glanced back to the number of her house, and then back to Lee.

A horribly familiar gargling snarl tore through the blissful quiet of the street. Lee felt panic slice through the pit of his stomach like an icy knife.

"Them monsters commin'!" Chet exclaimed as quietly as possible, not wanting attract early attention. "We gotta go!"

"Lee! Chenoa, quick! Let's go!" Shawn urged, already back to work on shifting the dratted car that barred their escape.

Lee and Chenoa rushed to help him. They pushed as hard as they could, and for a moment, it all seemed to be working. But then, the car stopped and wouldn't budge further. Chenoa cursed as the dead sounded their revolting calls nearer them that before. Help came in the form of Clementine, who placed her little hands on the grill and pushed with all her might. They car began to move again, as the ghostly sounds of the undead filled the air, far too close for comfort. Finally, with one final push, the way was clear.

All five of them ran to the red truck, Chet jumped in the back, while the rest hopped inside, Clementine sat upon Lee's knee. They drove off, clipping the corner of the other car in their haste to escape the dead, who were almost upon them. Clementine watched their hulking figures becoming smaller.

"Well, for 'a chance meeting in the woods' I'd say it turned out pretty well, don't you think?" Shawn breathed.

The only reply was the rumble of the engine as the car turned a corner, knocking over a few signs as they went.

It was night when they got out of the urban area. On the way, Chenoa had convinced Shawn to make a quick detour to her house, and she had asked him to wait for her. She was gone almost twenty minutes. They were about to go looking for her when she returned, now sporting a backpack and two shoulder bags, one smaller than the other.

When Lee questioned why it had taken so long, she simply said her house was no longer safe, and that she had salvaged what she could. He didn't press the subject, not wanting to put her in the spotlight.

The car was silent after that. Chenoa was simply staring out of the front window, glazed eyes never leaving the same spot. Clementine had fallen asleep against Lee's chest halfway through the journey. Lee stayed silent too. Mainly because he didn't want to wake Clementine, but also because he couldn't think of anything to say.

The moon had fully risen by the time they pulled up to the farm, and the sound of crickets filled the air. Shawn pulled into a cut through a corn field, and up to the pretty looking white farmhouse. When Shawn cut the engine, everyone exited the car. Lee gently woke Clementine, and she sleepily held onto his hand as they walked around to the back of the car.

"Hey Shawn?" Chet said, stretching his arms a little. "Imma run on home. My mamma's gonna be in a snit."

"No sweat man, I'll catch you tomorrow night."

Chet turned to the others. "It was sure nice to meet y'all." He said, before he walked off out of sight behind the large corn spires.

The sound of a door opening made the remaining group turn. An elderly man strolled casually out of the farmhouse, snow-white beard and hair well kept. Lee could only assume this was Shawn's father.

"Thank god you're okay." The old man said, smiling at Shawn, who smiled back widely.

"I was worried it'd be bad here too." Shawn said, hugging the old man tightly as thought to never let go.

The old man shrugged and patted the younger man on the back. "Been quiet as usual last couple days. Ol' Breckon down the way thinks his mare's gone lame, but that aint nothin' new."

The grin seemed plastered onto Shawn's face at this point. "I wouldn't have made it back without Chet." He informed his father.

"Well I'm glad you took him with you then." His father replied, matter-of-factly, before turning his attention to the rest of the group and placing his hands on his hips. "You've brought a couple guests."

Chenoa smiled. "Yeah, but we almost didn't make it to check in."

"Your boy's a lifesaver." Lee said sincerely.

"Glad he could be a help to somebody." Shawn's father said, glancing at Clementine. "So it's just you two and your daughter then?" he added.

"Oh, no they're not together. And Clementine isn't related to either of them." Shawn clarified quickly.

"Okay then." Shawn's father nodded to Lee's injury. "Looks like you hurt your leg pretty bad there."

Lee winced as he moved his leg to the side to get a better look at his carved up skin. "Ugh, yeah. It's not doing so good."

"I can help you out. Shawn, run on in and check on your sister." Shawn's father turned his attention back to Lee. "You, take a seat up on the porch and I'll go see what I have."

Shawn's father vanished into the house. Chenoa took Lee's arm and helped him up the steps and onto the bench. Chenoa waited for him to nod that he was okay before she leaned against the barrier. Clementine looped her little arm around a part of the barrier and sighed a little. Chenoa and Lee looked over to her in concern.

"What's wrong honey?" Lee asked.

"Just tired." Was her drowsy reply.

Lee smiled a little. He was tired too. His pleasant thoughts of a warm bed and sleep were broken by the return of Shawn's father.

"Let's have a look." He said, kneeling down and scrutinising the wound. "Yeah, this is swollen to hell." He observed.

"It hurts like hell!" Lee hissed a little at the pain.

Shawn's father looked up. "I'll bet it does." He reached for some bandages. "What'd you say your names were?"

"Lee, and this is Chenoa." Lee said nodding to the woman who watched with concern.

"Nice to meet you both. I'm Hershel Greene."

Hershel wrapped a lotion soaked bandage around Lee's injury. Lee cried out softly with the pain. Clementine bit her lip and leaned forward in worry, cuddling up against Chenoa when said woman patted her head.

"How'd this happen?" Hershel asked, continuing his work.

"Car accident." Lee replied carefully. He didn't want to give away more information than he should. Chenoa had an inkling to his past, but he doubted she thought anything of it.

"That so." Hershel seemed to make a note of that. "Where were you headed? Before the car accident."

Lee felt a little uneasy with the questions, but he answered them anyway.

"I was getting out of Atlanta." It wasn't technically a lie.

"The news says stay." Hershel remarked.

"Yeah, well that's a mistake." Lee said shortly. "We hit a guy, one of those things you've been hearing about, on the road."

"Who were you with, the girl?" Hershel asked.

Lee considered his options, before deciding to just go with the truth. "I was with a police officer. He was giving me a ride." Again, not technically a lie.

"Awful nice of him." Hershel said, though he didn't sound convinced.

"I'm an awful nice guy." Lee said, his tone was slightly challenging.

He didn't particularly care whether or not Hershel believed him, but he didn't want any more questions either. He tried to make that clear in his tone and words. Apparently he did, since Hershel steered the conversation on a different path.

"House is full up with mine." He said. "We've got another misplaced family of three sleepin' in the barn. Y'all are welcome to rest there once we're done here." He turned to look at Clementine. "I didn't catch your name darlin'."

"Clem-Clementine." She replied, stumbling over her words with tiredness.

Hershel's voice and eyes became soft as he spoke to her, his fatherly instincts kicking in as he watched the small girl. Chenoa smiled a little, it reminded her of the way Lee acted around Clementine.

"Can't imagine what you've been through Clementine." Hershel said. "So, are you all alone then?"

"We're looking after her until we can find her parents. Kinda like _real _emergency babysitters." Chenoa said. Hershel nodded to her politely.

Suddenly, Shawn appeared on the porch, his task about his sister apparently completed. His youthful face was creased in a frown as he looked down at his father, who was applying the last few layers of bandage to Lee's leg.

"Hey dad, so I'm thinking, first thing tomorrow, we gotta reinforce the fence around the farm." Shawn said, his voice deadly serious.

"That doesn't seem necessary."

Hershel spoke offhandedly, dipping a bandage in the ointment and wrapping it around the bandages that were already beginning to harden. Lee didn't wince as much, it didn't hurt as bad now. Apparently the mixture quelled pain too.

Shawn shook his head in annoyance. "Look, dad. I don't know what you saw on TV or heard on the radio, but there is some serious..." he lowered his voice when he caught sight of Clementine. "...shit hitting the fan. I don't think anyone knows how big it is yet."

When Hershel didn't answer, Lee put his two-penneth in. "Your son's right, you're gonna want to fortify this place."

Hershel stuck to his guns. "Stuff like that don't happen around here Shawn."

"Dad, I'm serious! Lee, Chenoa, come on tell him what you saw out there!"

Chenoa spoke up. "There are dead people. But they're not staying put. They move around and attack the living people. Lee and I were chased by a group of them, and then later on Lee was attacked by one."

Hershel was silent for a moment, before he grudgingly replied. "Well, do what you think is best. We got plenty of chores as it is."

Shawn shrugged, voice slightly happier. "Chenoa and those folks can help out in the morning. You too Lee if you're leg is feeling better. But whoever helps out, we gotta do it, really."

"I already said okay." Hershel said, voice showing a hint of exasperation.

Shawn nodded his thanks to Chenoa before he walked back into the house. Clementine shivered a little in the cold night air, and Chenoa drew the little girl closer to her in the hopes her body heat would help.

"Well, I'm all done here." Hershel said, giving his bandage an approving look. "It should start to feel better in the morning."

"Thanks." Lee said gratefully. The pain had dimmed to a slight discomfort, rather than the raging fire it had been.

Hershel stood up.

"If your leg gets real hot, or the swelling don't go down, then you're probably dealing with an infection." He informed the injured man.

"What do we do then?" Lee asked.

"We'll probably just have to shoot you." Hershel deadpanned. Everyone stared at him in shock before he grinned. "We'll clean it, re-dress it and you'll be fine."

Lee sagged in relief. Behind Hershel's back, Clementine shook her head in disapproval. He wanted to laugh at the cross expression on her little face.

"There's blankets and such in the barn, we'll be seein' you bright and early." Hershel said. "Come tomorrow, which way y'all headed?"

Clementine looked to Chenoa, who shrugged and looked expectantly at Lee, who almost shrugged and looked to the wall for its opinion on the subject. He sighed and decided it would be a good idea to check if he was the only member of the Everett family still alive.

"Towards Macon, I suppose." Lee said, and Chenoa nodded.

Hershel apparently decided that was his que to leave, since he promptly vanished into the house, closing the door behind him. Lee raised his eyebrows at Chenoa, who sniggered and helped him up. Clementine immediately took his hand as they began to walk towards the barn that loomed over them with ever step they took. Quietly, so as to not wake the other family Hershel had mentioned, they took some blankets and pillows and arranged them into bed-like shapes.

Chenoa was out like a light, falling into a deep sleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. Clementine watched Lee struggle to lie down properly with the hard cast on his leg. The hay cracked and crunched as he moved, before finally he managed to lie down on his makeshift bed and stared at the roof for a few moments. His troubled thoughts were interrupted when a small voice spoke softly.

"It smells like..." Clementine trailed off.

"Shit." Lee said automatically, forgetting who he was talking to momentarily.

Clementine gave a disapproving sigh and scowled at him through the darkness of the barn.

"I'm sorry." Lee said, barely keeping the laughter from his voice. "Shouldn't talk like that."

"That was a swear!"

Clementine almost seemed to join in with his humour, before that same hollow sadness swept over her face like storm clouds in the summer sky.

"I miss my mum and dad." She whispered.

"I bet Clem."

Clementine fell silent for a few moments. "How far is Savannah?" She asked eventually.

"Pretty far." Lee replied gently.

"Oh. Okay"

Clementine only just managed to get the words out, before the blissful curtain of sleep fell about her bedside. Her eyes closed, and her breathing became deep and slow, joining the chorus of the others. Lee smiled a little, before sleep claimed him too, though his was anything but blissful.

All through the night, the crickets sang their song, never wavering in the tune or pace as the silvery moon strolled across the sky. While they sang, all around them, the world was still falling deeper into hell.

* * *

**I apologise for any mistakes in this. I'm too ill to check properly, and this is a big chapter on Word, so it's hard to check properly anyway.**

**YOU ALL BETTER REVIEW! **

***rattles chains on undead minions* They're **_**real**_** hungry...BWAHAHAHA*cough* ACK! *splutter* **

**Okay, no evil laugh. **

**Bye for now!**


	3. Chapter 3: Grim Defeat

**Many apologies for lateness. Life has been a bit hard on me for a while. I will TRY to keep updates constant, but it seems I get a lot of updating done, something comes up, and then you all get nothing for a while, before the whole cycle stars again. :)**

**I'm glad people like this story. Sad stuff just isn't my forte, due to my impossibly happy personality. **

***pink hearts and glitter pours out of ceiling* **

**Ew! Sickening. That's way too horribly girly for me...change it to a certain so-gorgeous-it-should-be-illegal Irken defect and an adorably insane SIR-unit, then you got it! :D**

**I have made a discovery about my OC. Apparently my lovely Chenoa has a bit of a potty mouth. Why? Just because swearing is fun! *epic anime YEY!* I honestly don't even know how it happened...it just did. And she won't always be around when shit goes down, because she's not a magical Mary Sue who sees all and knows all. Sometimes she'll be in the thick of it, and sometimes she'll miss everything altogether. **

**Hope you enjoy.**

* * *

**The Softer Dove**

**Chapter 3; Grim Defeat**

"Hey. Git up."

A man's voice woke Chenoa from a peaceful dream where the world was whole and sane once more. Where neighbours complained to each other over their fences about taxes and the state of their lawns, where children ignored their parents warnings about running in the house and where shops sold overpriced crap for the hapless tourists that milled around aimlessly.

Blinking away the sleep from her eyes, Chenoa sat up and frowned at the man standing a little way from them. He was in his forties at least. A red and white cap obscured his black hair, but his ridiculous moustache was clearly visible against his pale skin. Chenoa scowled to herself as she stood up and brushed some loose bits of hay from her hair. She just wanted to sleep, to escape the hell around her for just a few more hours, to forget about everything. She glanced over at Lee, who was carefully avoiding putting too much weight on his leg, and Clementine, who was scratching absent-mindedly at her arm, blinking vaguely at Chenoa's lucky bat, which was sticking out of the top of her backpack.

"Ugh. I'm itchy." She commented.

"Well you slept in a barn lil'lady." Laughed the man. "Lucky you don' have spiders in yer hair."

Clementine gasped and froze, as though she was trying to determine whether or not she could feel tiny little legs wriggling about on her head.

"But I bet yer mummy and daddy scared 'em all away, huh?" Continued the man, a wide grin on his face.

Lee hastened to correct. "We're, uh, not her parents. I'm Lee, and this is Chenoa." He nodded in her direction. Chenoa gave a half-hearted wave.

"I'm Kenny."

Suddenly, a child's voice cut through the conversation, as a small boy, around eight or nine, popped his head around the barn door. His checked shirt was grubby, clearly demonstrating that the boy was not above rolling around in the dirt for his own amusement.

"Dad! We're gonna build a fence!" The boy practically yelled, in what Chenoa considered, unwarranted excitement. "There's a tractor and everything!"

The boy ran off.

_Gee whiz. A tractor on a farm? Who would have thunk it?_ Chenoa thought sarcastically, following Lee out of the door, Clemenine trotting at her side. _Well shucks. I wonder if they have any animals, or maybe we can even dare to hope for some straw. Wouldn't that be an odd find on a farm?_

Still mentally grumbling to herself, Chenoa turned her attention to the conversation between Lee and Kenny.

"That's my boy, Ken Junior. We call 'im Duck though." Kenny was saying.

"Dodging or quacking?" Lee asked in amusement.

"Quacking."

Chenoa was about to ask Lee about getting Clementine something to eat, when the piping voice of 'Duck' rang out.

"DAAAAAD!"

Kenny smirked. "See?"

They walked over to where a woman with short blonde hair and a floral top was sat next to some hay bales. Her hand was on Duck's shoulder and she was speaking to him quietly. The group stopped and Kenny turned to Lee and Chenoa.

"Word is, you folks were on yer way to Macon." He said.

Lee nodded. "My family lives there."

"Well Macon's on the way and..." Kenny lowered his voice, glancing at the two kids, "...personally I'd like the company of folks who can knock a couple o' heads together is they has to, if y'all know what I mean."

"We'll ask Clem." Chenoa replied. "She's the top priority for us."

Kenny nodded sagely. "Ah, gotta consult the boss. I understand." He turned to the woman sat on the hay bales. "Honey, Duck, this is Lee and Chenoa. Folks, this is Katjaa, my wife. And this here is...uh...what's the girl's name again?"

"Clementine." Lee said.

"That is a very pretty name." Katjaa said, an accent weighing heavily upon her voice. Chenoa couldn't place it. She thought it might have been Russian, maybe Polish or something around that area.

Clementine peeked out from behind Lee's legs. "Thanks."

Footsteps alerted the group to another's presence, and they turned to see Shawn Greene strolling towards them. He had shadows under his eyes, and they lacked a certain light. Evidently he'd been up the remainder of the night. Whether it was nightmares or worry, none of them knew. He nodded to Lee and Chenoa, an acknowledgement of their lucky escape only a few hours ago.

"Well, we should get to work." Shawn said. "We've all seen what those things can do out there, so the faster we get this fence up, the better."

"I wanna build a fence!"

Chenoa ground her teeth a little. She would never harm a child, but that stupid kid was doing her head in. She glanced across at Lee, and just knew he was thinking the same. Clementine simply looked unimpressed at the boy's needless enthusiasm.

"Yeah? Well I need a good foreman." Shawn suggested. Apparently he was immune to irritating children. "You can sit on the tractor and yell at me whenever I take a water break."

"_On _the _tractor_? COOL!"

She watched Sawn and said child walk off. Chenoa sighed, she knew her patience would be sorely tested today. She just hoped it wouldn't snap. Maybe she could wangle it so that she stayed as far away from Duck as was possible.

Katjaa turned to Chenoa and Lee. "I can keep an eye on the little girl here on the porch if you like." She suggested.

Lee and Chenoa nodded, it would be better for Clementine to get to know the family they were apparently going to be spending a lot of time with. Chenoa mentally groaned at the idea of sharing a car with Duck.

_Who knows? Maybe we won't have to leave after all. Maybe if we prove to Hershel we can pull our weight, he'll let us stay. _Chenoa thought. _I really don't like the idea of going back out into the world. Things seem normal here, almost as if nothing happened. Almost as if the dead aren't walking around._

Chenoa was jerked out of her thoughts when Lee shook her arm.

"You okay? You kinda zoned out there for a second." He asked.

"Yeah, fine. Just thinking."

"I daren't do too much of that nowadays..." Lee sighed. He nodded over to Kenny, who was stood near a blue truck. "So what d'you think?" he asked, voice low.

Chenoa considered for a few moments. "He seems like a nice enough guy. The kid is annoying like hell, but yeah, they seem okay."

Lee simply nodded, and began to walk over to Kenny. Chenoa followed, giving the truck a critical look as she went. It looked sturdy enough, and it had space to carry stuff in at the back if they ever had to hit the road. Though she prayed it would not come to that. That would be suicide. A fool's errand.

"Hey there, uh, Kenny. Need any help?"

Lee's deep voice broke through her rather grim thoughts, and she gave herself a thorough shake. Now really wasn't the time for doom-and-gloom scenarios.

"Naw, I think I got it." Kenny replied with a smile, nose deep in the complicated engine parts. "Do _you _two need any help?"

Surprised by the question, Lee and Chenoa looked at each other. "What d'you mean?" They both asked.

Kenny gave a short laugh. "I mean in takin' care o' that little girl. You folks know what you're doin'? Any y'all got kids of your own?"

Lee shook his head. "No. I have no kids."

"Me neither." Chenoa said.

"Would'a liked some then?"

Lee shrugged, while Chenoa shook her head firmly. "Fuck no. I love kids and everything, but I never did want any of my own. The whole childbirth part made it even_ less_ appealing. Pain is never good, I don't care if it is because you're bringing another life into the world or whatever they try and gloss it over as. Screw that shit."

Kenny laughed. "Can't say I blame ya, you ladies gotta deal with a lot of crap that for some reason nature decided y'all needed. Kat skipped the whole birth process, had a C-section instead."

He dropped a tool and gave a muffled curse as he picked it up. A raven squawked in a tree above them, making Chenoa jump. She wasn't superstitious, but the sight of a bird associated with impending death was never a good sign. She shuddered. She really had to stop with the doom and gloom.

"So what's your family's plan?" Lee asked Kenny, who was now giving the engine a through look-over.

"Git back on down to Lauderdale and let this mess git sorted out." Kenny answered, looking up at the two other survivors with a serious look. "Eventually the government'll start handin' out shots, and the national guard will do its thing. On the odd chance things got too bad, we could hop on my boat I guess."

Lee stiffened, his interest caught. "You've got a boat?"

"I'm a commercial fisherman. Catchin' mackerel, dolphin, whatever's bitin' and payin' really. Katjaa wouldn't be wild about it, but the boat aint' that bad."

"Sweet." Chenoa smiled. "Though, I'm not too overjoyed about the dolphin. It's my favourite animal, see."

"Yah, I love 'em too. They fetch a good price though, only reason I catch 'em."

"Really?"

"Oh yeah, you wouldn't believe the prices rich folk will pay to have some dolphin on the menu for their fancy parties. Almost as much as they'll pay for some fresh lobster. I tell ya, fishing is good business." He paused, his expression becoming grim. "Was a good business. Somehow I don't think fresh seafood is gonna be the most pressing thing on the minds of folks with the dead runnin' around, killin' whatever's in sight."

The mood became distinctly more serious at the mention of the walkers. The three adults mulled recent events over for a few moments. It was lucky they were even here, talking about something as normal as fishing when all around them, the world was covered in zombies. It all seemed like some very bizarre and morbid dream induced by eating too much cheese during a horror movie or something equally as strange.

"Yeah. I reckon the dead might cause a few problems with business all over the place." Chenoa said. "Though, you never know, maybe there's a market for real live zombies. If there's one thing I learned about humans, it's this. When in doubt, sell shit. There's always some dumb fuck who'll buy it."

Lee and Kenny laughed, before the air became serious again when Lee caught sight of Clementine.

"How's your son doing?" He asked. "Clem seems okay, but I can only imagine how a kid would see the world now. It's scary enough as it is without monsters roaming about and all."

Kenny sighed and nodded. "Duck's good I think." He said. "Katjaa's got a sister up in Memphis, we were just coming back from visiting her when the whole world went to hell. We were in a gas station and some guy grabbed my boy. I thought he was kidnappin' him. I was on the fucker in about two seconds, and...christ, just lucky I was there." Kenny paused. "We saw a lot of bodies before we stumbled across Hershel's. But we're a tough family, aint nothin' gonna faze us."

Chenoa couldn't think of anything to say to that. Apparently neither could Lee, as he nodded to Kenny before making his way over to Clementine and Katjaa. The little girl was sat on one of the hay bales, looking happy. Well, as happy as anyone could be in the current climate.

"Hello again." Katjaa said as they approached.

"Hey, how are you both doing?" Lee asked.

Katjaa smiled. "We're doing fine, thank you. Clementine was just telling me about first grade."

"Oh? You're in first grade?"

"Yeah, it's easy as pie."

Clementine smiled happlily, before catching sight of a passing butterfly. She went to get a closer look at the brightly coloured insect, leaving the three adults alone to talk. It was just like a normal day in the back garden. Birds singing atop tree branches, bees happily buzzing about, collecting pollen, flowers blooming in bunches on the thick green grass. There was no trace of the hellish wandering demons, who had at one point been people. Living, breathing people.

"Hard to think anything other than the norm is happening, isn't it?" Katjaa sighed, seemingly reading both their minds. "It's almost as if we didn't see people eating each other for the past few days. Is peaceful here, no?"

Lee nodded.

"So, uh, what do you do when corpses aren't walking around?" he asked, attempting to lighten the mood.

Katjaa laughed a little. "I'm a veterinarian back in Fort Lauderdale. Like Hershel, 'cept with dogs and cats and er not horses. What about you both?"

"I was a teacher, up at UGA." Lee replied, keeping the answer vague. "Going on my sixth year."

"Nothing that fancy for me. I was a travel agent." Chenoa said with a shrug. "Spent most of my time arranging holidays for other people and ignoring my own desperate need for a break."

Katjaa laughed a little at that. The adults talked for a while longer, before Lee and Chenoa took their leave. Clementine seemed safe and happy enough with Katjaa, so neither of them felt the need to stick around too long. They had other, more pressing matters to attend to.

Lee decided to go and speak to Shaun, while Chenoa went back to the barn. Hershel was there, sweeping the hay into neater piles. He nodded at her, and she nodded back, grabbing her bag and walking back out into the bright sunlight. She settled down next to a large tree, and fumbled around in her backpack, placing the bat next to her out of the way.

Finally, she pulled out an old album. It was battered and dog-eared at the sides, but Chenoa cradled it like it was the entire contents of Fort Knox. A small tear fell from her eye as she looked at it, before she gave herself a firm shake. Crying wouldn't help matters in the slightest.

Chenoa glanced through at the old photos. Laughing at some of them, and the memories they brought back. She stopped at a picture of her parents wedding day, wrongly placed at the back of the book. Her mother, looking radiant in her slim dress and veil, and her father standing next to his wife with a content expression. Chenoa sniffed and bit back a sob as she gently traced a finger over the still, frozen faces. She wiped her eyes with her sleeve, putting the book back before anyone caught her blubbing.

She wasn't in the mood for explanations right now.

A sudden yell made her jump and grab her bat handle out of instinct. She frowned, and saw Hershel sprinting towards the direction Lee had taken. Her eyes widened at the shotgun, and raced after him, bat firmly clutched in her hand. She rounded the corner mere seconds after the old man, and gasped in horror at the sight that greeted her.

Shawn was lying near a half completed fence, two walkers pinning him down at a broken part. One was chewing on his leg, while the other had latched onto the poor boy's shoulder. He was twitching in pain, while his blood seeped over the grass, staining the green blades a deep scarlet hue. A vile painting that signified the end of a life, while the raven cawed again in the distance. He was a cruel herald indeed. Chenoa made to move and swing with her trust bat, but instantly froze as shots rang out. The walkers fell down behind the fence they had apparently broken to get to their victim, now minus their heads. One more walker, attracted by the smell of fresh meat no doubt, appeared with a snarl. Another shot fired, and it too, fell.

Hershel lowered the gun, running to his son, panic and grief for his son showing clearly. Chenoa walked slowly to stand beside Lee, who was looking on with a broken expression. She placed a hand on his shoulder, but he didn't even seem to notice. She turned her attention back to the last moments of the kind boy who saved their lives mere hours ago on the darkened streets of an overrun neighbourhood.

"I'm okay pop...I'm okay..." Shawn was saying dimly.

"I can fix you." Hershel attempted to convince himself. "Don't...don't worry. We'll stitch you up, son. It'll be fine."

"Lee tried...tried to...s-save me. He really did. He's a good man pa."

"I know son, I know."

Hershel could only watch as his son breathed one last breath, before he faded into whatever lay beyond with a soft sigh. Hershel's eyes widened in realisation, and he fell to the ground in his grief. Chenoa felt her heart clench, and she turned away in an attempt to respect Shawn. Footsteps made her jump once again, but as she whirled round, she realised it was the others. Katjaa immediately shielded the kids from the grisly view, while Kenny looked suspiciously guilty, and that got Chenoa's back up a little.

Hershel slowly raised his head, and stared off into the distance across the large fields, where shambling, far away figures could be seen, attracted by the gunshots and smell of blood, like sharks in an ocean.

"Get out..."

* * *

**Oh noes!**

**Well, you all know what happens anyway...but hopefully I can keep you interested with the extra bits I have planned for this fic. Seriously, shit is going to go down it the next chapter, that's a promise**

**Don't forget to review!**


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